


Correspondence

by avantegarda



Series: It's the New World, Darling-A 19th-20th Century AU [19]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Boarding School, Fluff, Gen, I put one bad poem in this, at least at first, finrod is a Good Boy, for now, for you, i mean remember what fandom this is, letter writing, maglor is a romantic buffoon, the whole family gets mentioned but i'm just tagging the main ones, they're in america now it's time for sadness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-03-14 16:10:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18951538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avantegarda/pseuds/avantegarda
Summary: Maedhros and Maglor are always there for one another; if not in person, then on paper.





	1. Schoolboys

**Author's Note:**

> Do you guys remember how for a while back in Jane Austen's day everyone was really into "epistolary novels" that consisted entirely of letters written back and forth between the characters? No? Just me then, okay.

Maglor K. Gates

No. 27 York Terrace

Marylebone, London

_ September 21, 1873 _

_ Maglor, my dear little owl, _

_ Can it really be only a month since we last saw each other? It feels like much longer, and yet somehow like no time at all! I’m sure when I come home for Christmas I will find that you’ve grown a foot taller and become fluent in French and learned to play the violin with your feet. _

_ What do you think of my penmanship these days? All that time Father spent training us to write as beautifully as medieval monks, and now along comes Professor Grimes to tell me that my handwriting is completely wrong! I’ve been trying to do things his way to keep my marks up, but I may have to ask Father to write Grimes one of his very long letters about “correct” penmanship. I doubt even a sour old professor can stand against Father when he gets on his high horse. _

_ I hope your music lessons are still going well. Mum told me your piano teacher says you’re an absolute natural. I’m not a bit surprised; I remember when you were very small how you would climb up on the piano bench at Granddad’s house and pound out whatever tune came to your mind. You were probably better at three years old than I am now! My only consolation is that, for the moment anyway, I am most likely better at Ancient Greek translation than you are. But that isn’t the sort of thing people usually ask for after dinner. _

_ It isn’t easy to be so far away from London, but I promise that boarding school really isn’t so bad at all. I think you will like it a lot when you come here in a few years. Scotland has beautiful scenery and most of the schoolwork is very interesting. You might even get a chance to write a few poems! And just think, in three years you and Fingon and I will all be at St. Francis together, and what a jolly time we’ll have.  _

_ Don’t let the little ones bother you too much, by the way. Now that I’m away, you are the eldest, and you can make them mind you! If Caranthir is losing his temper you can always sing “Ave Maria” to him until he falls asleep. And don’t let Celegorm turn the bathtub into a rabbit hutch again! _

_ Your loving brother, _

_ Maedhros  _

 

Maedhros N. Gates

St. Francis Academy for Boys

Fenwick, Scotland

_ September 30, 1873 _

_ Dear Maedhros, _

_ Mum says that I am old enough to write you a letter by myself now. She said that I may write whatever I like and it’s all right if I make a spelling mistake. I will try not to make any mistakes though because I think Dad would be upset. _

_ My music lessons are going very well and I like the piano a lot but I think I like the violin more. Mr. Rossini says once I get a bit older he’ll teach me to start composing music on my own. I told him I already do but I just can’t write it down yet. He laughed and told me I was  _ ~~_ precoshus  _ ~~ _ precocious, and then he started to say something was a shame but he didn’t say what. _

_ I like your handwriting. I don’t think you ought to change it. _

_ Do you have to learn about science at boarding school? Dad has been giving Celegorm and I science lessons when he has time. I like it when he takes us to the park and we have to guess which bird we hear singing, but I don’t like it when we have to learn about Anatomy and look at skulls and bones and things. Celegorm can remember lots of different bone names but I keep forgetting all of them except femur. That one is in your leg. Celegorm wore a deer skull on his head like a hat all day yesterday and no one noticed until dinner.  _

_ It’s very hard being the eldest while you’re gone. Celegorm doesn’t listen to me at all and says that since he is nearly as tall as me he doesn’t need to follow my orders. Caranthir isn’t so bad and singing to him does help but sometimes he starts saying “no” to everything like when he was a baby and I do not know what to do about that. Curufin is too small to understand very much but he is usually following Dad around so that’s all right. Mum says I am doing a good job but I don’t think I could ever be as good of an older brother as you are.  _

_ I only made one spelling mistake in this letter and so I think I should probably end it now before I make any more. _

_ Love, _

_ Maglor _

 

_ \--------- _

 

Maedhros N. Gates

St. Francis Academy for Boys

Fenwick, Scotland

_ October 5, 1878 _

_ My dearest big brother, _

_ I know I begin every single one of my letters to you the same way, but it remains true, so you will have to forgive me for saying it again: Vienna is  _ glorious _. I thank God every day that Father made me audition for the Royal Academy, because if he hadn’t I do not think I would ever have made it here on my own. I won’t bore you with all the details of what instruments I am learning and what operas I’ve seen, though rest assured they are many and varied. I think I am finally making progress in convincing my fellow students that I as an Englishman have any business being at the Academy—if I have to hear someone say “the English are not musical” one more time, I believe I’m liable to break something! _

_ I haven’t had a chance to say it before, but I want to tell you I know how upset you were when I was sent down from St. Francis. I wish for your sake that I could have stayed. But I am not clever like you, Maedhros. I’m only good at about three things, none of which are given much attention at boarding school. I don’t think I could have survived another year there. Besides, you’ve still got Fingon, who is a far better companion to you than I could have been had I stayed. And of course now you’ve got Celegorm to be keeping an eye on! How is the little rascal behaving? Does he break out of the dormitory at night to go dancing naked in the woods like a pagan sprite? I certainly hope he does. And don’t forget to tell him about the ghost that haunts the East Tower. He deserves to have a few sleepless nights. _

_ But more importantly, how are you? Do you think you will be able to win the Latin prize for the fourth year in a row? I hope you know how proud we all are of you. You’re by far the most intelligent person in this family. Are you still wavering between Oxford and Cambridge for next year? Personally I would prefer Oxford, but only because I find the phrase “city of dreaming spires” to be unbearably lovely. I’m only disappointed that I didn’t think of it first. _

_ I miss our parents and our brothers like mad, but I love it here, so much, maybe even more than London. The only thing I do not love is that my favorite brother isn’t here to share it with me. I do hope you can come and visit soon. _

_ With infinite love that cannot be conveyed in the English language, _

_ Maglor _

  
  


Maglor K. Gates

Royal Academy of Music, Vienna

_ November 1, 1878 _

_ Dearest Maglor, _

_ I can assure you that I will never tire of hearing how much you love Vienna. It nearly makes me miss you less, with emphasis on the word “nearly.” I read your letter aloud to Fingon and we agreed that Vienna is surely your spiritual home, at least for the time being. You will also be pleased to know that we did tell Celegorm the story about the ghost in the East Wing, and he was suitably disconcerted at first, though the next day he denied any fear and said ghost stories were for babies. He thinks himself so mature! _

_ There is, however, one point in your last letter that I must take issue with. In fact, I am quite horrified and offended that you would say you are not clever. Are you aware that the vast majority of people on this Earth cannot learn a new musical instrument just by glaring at it for twenty minutes? And that your way with words is better even than Father’s? If I hear you bragging about this or telling other people I said so I will deny it absolutely, but I believe the only word to properly describe you is “genius.” _

_ I do appreciate your contribution to the Oxford/Cambridge debate, though I am not sure choosing a university based on poetic descriptions of it is entirely sound judgement. Father’s keen on Oxford since he went there, but I doubt I can trust his assurances that the coursework is “incredibly easy,” as this is Father we are talking about. Personally I will be happy to go to whatever university is willing to have me. Perhaps if I win the Latin prize for the fourth year in a row I’ll be considered a viable candidate for academia. I must say I quite fancy wearing a mortarboard everywhere. Don’t you think I would look quite dapper? _

_ All my love, _

_ Maedhros _

 

_ PS: You mustn’t blame you classmates for saying the English are not musical. It’s entirely likely they simply overheard Celegorm singing in the bath. _


	2. Scholars

Maglor K. Gates

Royal Academy of Music, Vienna

 

_November 20, 1880_

_Dear Maglor,_

_I am utterly exhausted from long hours of studying so forgive me if this letter is less coherent than usual, but I felt I had to write and let you know how proud I am of you. Father says he received a letter from Herr Meissner saying that your composition for the Academy’s upcoming Christmas concert was brilliant and calling you the most talented fifteen-year-old he’s ever taught. Of course, you know how Father gets when one of us is successful—his most recent letter to me was mostly bragging about you, with a dash of bragging about the twins (who apparently are improving greatly in their reading and writing) and quite a bit of bragging about Curufin, who evidently took the clock apart and put it back together again independently._

_I myself have little to brag about; what seemed easy in school is utterly impossible in university. I have read Marcus Aurelius’_ Meditations _so many times that if Mr. Aurelius’ ghost were to manifest in front of me I would probably try to strangle him. Sometimes it feels as though if I try to stuff any more knowledge into my brain it will pour out my ears._

_Do you think Father will think I’m an utter disgrace if I don’t bring home brilliant marks this first term? He has such high expectations for all of us, and I know it’s because he loves us and believes us capable of anything, but it can be an awful lot to live up to. I’m not worried about Mum so much, as she is so rarely disappointed in any of us, but I’m terrified of letting down Father._

_I ought to go to sleep now so I can wake up at sunrise tomorrow to read more endless tomes the size and weight of blocks of marble. Forgive me for writing such a short letter and filling it with my complaining. I am, once again, very proud of you._

_Your tired brother,_

_Maedhros_

  


Maedhros N. Gates

Magdalene College, Oxford

 

_November 30, 1880_

_Dear Maedhros,_

_It is quite possible that you won’t receive this letter until after the Christmas holidays have begun, which may be a good thing as there is a chance this letter will become maudlin. Believe me when I say I completely understand how you feel about letting down Dad; every time he tells me Herr Meissner sent him a letter I’m frozen with fear until I find out if it was good news or bad. Truth be told, I’m surprised Herr Meissner had anything good to say about my work at all, since it took me about seven rewrites to get that song to the point where he declared it “adequate.” Quite different here from when I was nine years old and fooling about on the piano with Mr. Rossini._

_It’s comforting to be told I am talented, but to be honest I often feel like a silly little boy who doesn’t deserve to be here, among all these brilliant people. Usually this thought hits me at three o’clock in the morning and keeps me awake for hours until I can replace it with a catchy enough tune. My true worry is that soon everyone will discover I am a complete fraud and I’ll be sent back to London in disgrace, just as I was at St. Francis._

_I suppose what I am trying to say is, I know how you feel, and though it may not help to hear it, I think you are brilliant and will do extremely well. If there are any professors about whom you wish me to write a rude limerick, I will happily do so._

_What would you like for Christmas this year? Not books, I assume. Considering how tired you must be, I am thinking you might like an enormous block of chocolate and some Ethiopian coffee beans._

_Forgive_ my _short letter, as I promised my friends Luca and Nico I would go to a cafe with them this evening to see a wonderful troupe of Moravian folk singers. Ought to be brilliant._

_With love and sympathy,_

_Maglor_

 

_\-----_

  


Maedhros N. Gates

Magdalene College, Oxford

 

_May 1, 1882_

_Dear Maedhros,_

_I write this at seven in the evening, having just woken up from a good twelve hours of sleep. The good news is that, being in my final year (and the last month of it), I have a significant amount of class-free time to work on my final project; the unfortunate news is that there remain only twenty-four hours in each day, which are not nearly enough. I woke up yesterday at eight and did not get to sleep until half past six this morning, which may be the cause of some of the strange writing I discovered I had done last night. Particularly the following terrible poem, which appears to be the result of thinking about how my childhood nickname was “little owl” as well as how miserable I was going to be when I woke up. It goes as follows:_

Which beast awakens with a scowl

Whose voice is an unearthly howl

And declares all good things foul?

Alas, ‘tis I, the little owl.

_As I say, utter trash, but at four in the morning it must have seemed incomparably hilarious, as I vaguely recall laughing so hard I nearly choked._

_On an unrelated note, do you know who has been writing to me as of late? Our cousin, young Finrod! Only fourteen, you know, and a terribly earnest young chap. He has recently begun studying music himself and sends me long letters full of questions that I am doing my very best to answer coherently. He’s made it clear that he considers me something of a role model, which is flattering, but also distinctly uncomfortable. I suppose I can sound wise and respectable in writing, but physically I have been wearing the same dressing gown for two days in a row and cannot remember when I last ate. How can you bear to have the entire family looking up to you all the time (both figuratively and literally)? It must be quite an imposition._

_Forgive me for prattling on about myself when I really ought to be asking after you. In your last letter you outlined your hopes of becoming a solicitor after you finish at Oxford—a noble aim,_ I _think, though you must be prepared for all the “unscrupulous lawyer” quips you are likely to get from our uncles. Which is more respectable, I wonder: to be a lawyer or a musician? All of society seems to snigger at us behind their hands until they need us, and they always do._

_How is Oxford? Is “the city of dreaming spires” still treating you as well as you deserve? I always enjoy your descriptions of the university and the city, and if I was slightly more academically inclined I would love to have gone there. Quelle fromage! 1 _

_Incidentally, I was pleasantly surprised to receive a letter from Caranthir at St. Francis last week. Granted, it only consisted of one paragraph, most of which was complaining about Celegorm (who does not seem to be growing any less feral), but I do believe our dear little brother is improving his communication skills. I firmly believe he has a tender and romantic heart under all that prickliness, and I cannot wait until he falls like a ton of bricks for some poor girl and comes running to us for advice._

_My stomach is growling so much that I fear I will soon be mistaken for an escaped lion from the Schonbrunn Zoo, so I will go in search of noodles and reluctantly end this letter by saying that I miss you loads and cannot wait to see you in June._

_All my love,_

_Maglor_

 

Maglor K. Gates

Royal Academy of Music, Vienna

 

_May 12, 1882_

_My darling baby brother,_

_I suppose it’s quite wrong of me to still be calling you a baby, as you are eighteen now and soon to be the Royal Academy’s top graduate, but I’m afraid that a part of me will never stop seeing you as my little brother who went about shouting “Mine!” at everything and refusing to go to bed. Though it seems the latter is still true. Look after yourself, I wouldn’t like to see ou collapse in exhaustion before your sure-to-be-triumphant performance in June._

_In answer to your question, I am not certain any of us will ever be considered respectable, regardless of what profession we choose to pursue. After all, while we may technically be members of the gentry, we remain a bunch of Catholics who made our fortune in trade not fifty years ago, and are therefore what the French call_ nouveaux riches. _This stays between us, of course, but I know for a fact that Uncle Fingolfin_ detests _this label, and would love to be accepted as an equal by the aristocracy. Dad, meanwhile, doesn’t seem to care a whit. Personally I’m quite glad not to be the Earl of somewhere, aren’t you? At least we can make an honest living for ourselves. Though “honest” may be a stretch in your case._

_Apparently Mum has told the twins that now they are nearly eight they’re ready to start writing letters to their elder brothers by themselves. Do you remember all those letters you wrote to me when you were nine and I was just starting boarding school? I still have a few of them and read them from time to time. You were so concerned about your spelling! It seems the twins don’t quite share your worries. You’ll probably be hearing from them yourself soon enough, but I wanted to reproduce a segment of their letter here as I think it may be the greatest piece of English literature ever written._

 

Dear Maedhros, We hope you are having a good time at universty. Dad says we can each write you our own letter but we woud write the same thing anyway so we are doing it together. I got to hold the pen becase my writing is neater than Amrod’s. He is cross.

We liked the picture you drew of the river and all the boats. Will you send us more drawings? It is our birthday soon so maybe you can send us a present too. Maybe a puppy. Mum says we don’t need a puppy becase Celegorm has Huan but Huan is in Scotland and we miss him.

Please tell Maglor that we are going to be eight soon. He mite forget as he is far away. We miss him and you too.

 

_At this point in the letter it appears that Amrod tried to take control of the pen, and as a result the rest of the letter is horribly smudged, but I believe the upshot is that we are very lucky to have these two little imps in our family. Consider this your reminder that their birthday is on the twentieth, though I’m sure you’ve already posted them a package of marzipan ladybugs._

_Oxford continues to be both fascinating and exhausting. How odd to think I’m nearly done there. When I become a solicitor do you think I will finally be able to get some rest?_

_Love,_

_Maedhros_

_PS: Your poem was brilliant and I am framing it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Maglor is trying to say "quelle dommage" which is French for "what a pity." Unfortunately he is too tired to know what he is saying. "Quelle fromage" means "that's cheese."


	3. Romantics

Maedhros N. Gates

No. 27 York Terrace

Marylebone, London

_ July 14, 1883 _

_ Dear Maedhros, _

_ Happy Bastille Day! Goodness, if you would have told me that I’d be celebrating France’s independence in Paris while preparing for the opening of an operetta that  _ I wrote,  _ I would have called you mad as a hatter. I suppose after nearly a year of reasonable success in London the powers that be decided the French ought to be subjected to the same torment the British have been, though somehow I don’t think  _ The Trials of Sir Stultus  _ is quite as funny in French. And of course I can’t be in the lead role this time as I’m expected back in London in a few weeks. Still, something for for Dad to embarrass us by bragging about! _

_ Speaking of Dad and bragging, he sent me a long letter last week detailing how incredibly brilliant your fledgeling law career is going. I couldn’t understand most of it as Legal Jargon is not a language I speak, but I sense that congratulations are in order. Messrs. Prentis, Prentis, and Prentis must be delighted with you. Have you solved many impossible cases and made glamorous women fall in love with you? Well, I suppose I really needn’t ask the second question, as it happens about once every hour. I can’t say I’m quite as successful, but I have been in touch with a rather charming young lady from the Ballets Russes of late… _

_ To answer your question before you ask it, yes, Finrod and I have been having a very jolly time during his visit and yes we have been behaving reasonably well, though I can’t make any promises regarding my own behavior at the opening night party. Young Fin may need to be the one looking after  _ me  _ at that point. But you may tell Uncle Finarfin that we’ve been attending nearly every concert and exhibition in town and Finrod will return to London as cultured as twelve of me put together. We probably should not mention, though, the evening we went to my friend Henri’s flat for a poetry reading and wound up drinking absinthe and singing on the roof, resulting in the police being called and us having to leg it back to our hotel at four in the morning. Please don’t tell Uncle Finarfin about that. _

_ (Question: Do you ever find Uncle Finarfin’s brood to be a bit...intense? I know that may seem ironic coming from me, but even the small ones have a way of just  _ staring  _ at you until you feel they’re looking into your very soul. Finrod isn’t so bad but he does the same thing, especially when we’re discussing music or poetry) _

_ How are the little scamps back home? With you being so busy I don’t expect you have much time for looking after them, but it must be rather nice to have them all back from school again. Give them loads of hugs and kisses from me. Incidentally, are you as surprised as I am that Celegorm has lasted this long at St. Francis without being expelled? It’s the influence of that cart-horse of a dog of his, you mark my words. He’s the brains of the operation. And how strange it is to think that the twins will be off to school in just a few years. Do you remember when they were born and Dad convinced St. Francis to let you come home three weeks early so you could meet them? They were so small, and had such bright red hair! Don’t tell Mum this, but it was months before I could tell them apart at all. _

_ Finrod is knocking on my door and reminding me that I promised to take him to see the Bastille Day fireworks this evening. I am not sure which of us will have too much champagne and have to be dragged home by the other, but it’s probably me. _

_ Much love, _

_ Maglor _

  
  


Maglor K. Gates

Hotel St. Germaine, Paris

_ July 20, 1883 _

_ Dear Maglor, _

_ I love you and am very, very proud of you for being such a success in the comic-opera industry but please, please come home as soon as you possibly can. All five of the children are back from school, as you so kindly pointed out, and the house has become a zoo, an absolute zoo. Is it really, truly necessary for Huan to lie under the table for every single meal? It wouldn’t be so bad if he stayed  _ under  _ the table, but he pokes his great shaggy head out from under the tablecloth every few minutes and tries to swipe food off our plates. And Celegorm refuses to discipline him because he seems to believe the beast is a human being and it would be a violation of his dignity to criticize his behavior. Do you remember when he used to bring in hedgehogs and squirrels from the park and try to raise them? I am honestly not sure if this is better or worse. _

_ The good news is that Mum and Dad seem to be much happier with all of us about. How odd it must be to be a parent and spend years devoting all your time to your children, only to have them trickle away as soon as they are old enough for school and work. Mum in particular misses you terribly and asked me to tell you that she will have a batch of Irish soda bread waiting when you come home. Sometimes, I confess, I am a bit envious of how close you are with Mum. I suppose it’s because you two are so alike. _

_ There is a bright spot in all this nonsense: I have befriended a particularly nice young woman by the name of Miss Lillian Prentis, the daughter of one of the Prentises of law firm fame (though I’m not entirely sure which one). She has curly brown hair and sparkling green eyes and her jokes are even wittier than yours, and though I hate to get ahead of myself I genuinely think she may be the girl I marry. Just think: if things go well for both of us, we could have a double wedding next spring: I to Lillian, and you to your Russian ballerina! You will have to give me some advice for how to completely win Lillian over, though. You’ve always been the more romantic of the two of us. _

_ All I ask of you is that you try and keep poor Finrod alive for another week or two. I will not tell Uncle Finarfin about the rooftop incident, but if you and the unfortunate lad wind up in a French prison I’m afraid he may have to be informed. I will do my best to defend you in a court of law, though. By the way, I do know exactly what you mean about Finrod and his siblings staring into one’s soul, though I think Dad does the exact same thing from time to time, and you do as well, when someone gets you started on Franz Liszt.  _

_ Your romantic brother, _

_ Maedhros _

 

_ \---- _

 

Maedhros N. Gates

No. 27 York Terrace

Marylebone, London

_ January 30, 1884 _

_ Dear Maedhros, _

_ Words can’t express how sorry I am to hear of your quarrel with Lillian. I know nothing I can say will ease your pain, but do please tell me the minute you are ready for me to send you a ten-page letter detailing all the reasons why I never much cared for her and why she is unworthy of an excellent chap such as yourself.  _

_ I’m afraid you may need to write to me in a similar vein, as I discovered upon my arrival in St. Petersburg last week that Olya Petrova (whom you may recall as the young lady from the Ballets Russes about whom I could not stop talking last year) has thrown me over completely and married a Russian count with more rubles than sense. According to her former colleagues she is quite grand now and is happily settling into life as a countess. I did not hear any of this from Olya herself, as she is not speaking to me. _

_ I won’t say my heart is broken, but it is certainly cracked. _

_ My only consolation at the moment is that of all the cities in which to be melancholy. St. Petersburg is probably the best, particularly at this time of year when the nights seem to stretch on for weeks at a time and one feels as though one is living in a snowglobe. You should come here and we can drown in sorrow together. _

_ It also helps that my concerts have been generally well-received, though thanks to the newspaper reviews I now know the Russian for “melodramatic.” Melodramatic, me! Can you believe it? _

_ (Please do not answer that) _

_ I really would love for you to come visit, if you can get away from Prentis, Prentis, and Prentis. I miss you like mad. _

_ All my love, _

_ Maglor _

  
  


Maglor K. Gates

Care of Lanskoi Theatre, St. Petersburg

_ February 7, 1884 _

_ Dear Maglor, _

_ I’ve been granted two weeks of leave from work (I believe they’ll be pleased to be rid of me and not have to cope with me moping about the place constantly) and have booked a ticket to come see you in St. Petersburg. I hope you were being sincere about my coming for a visit because I don’t think that I can stand to be in London for a minute longer.  _

_ May I make a request? When I arrive, let’s not talk about girls at all. Let’s eat caviar and drink vodka and throw snowballs at each other and reminisce about our childhoods. All that will cheer me up now is distraction, and it sounds like you could use some of the same. _

_ I never liked Olya. Very talented and pretty, certainly, but she didn’t laugh enough. You deserve a girl who laughs. _

_ Love, _

_ Maedhros _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maglor definitely gets the "most melodramatic of the House of Finwe" award. But ugh, these two heartbroken baby idiots. They definitely drink a lot of vodka in St. Petersburg.


	4. From the Rest of the Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have a fairly short chapter, but at least Finrod is in it, and we all love Finrod. He's so pure.

Maedhros and Maglor Gates

Grand Hotel, St. Petersburg

_ February 15, 1884 _

_ Dear Maedhros and Maglor, _

_ Well, Celegorm is too lazy to write to you and Curufin is too busy polishing his science teacher’s boots, so I suppose it falls to me to make sure the pair of you aren’t having too good of a time in St. Petersburg. I hope you know if you fall into the Neva and drown Mum and Dad are going to be furious. I wouldn’t put it past them to have one of those Spiritualist seances and call your ghosts back from the dead purely for the purpose of shouting at you. _

_ St. Francis remains about the same as ever, by which, of course, I mean “generally dull.” I got a perfect score in an arithmetic test last week and won two guineas from Johnny Watson as a result, which is approximately the extent of my recent accomplishments. Celegorm got two weeks’ detention for letting Huan loose in Professor Grimes’ office. Remind me why Mum and Dad thought it was a good idea for him to keep that beast up here? I’m rather inclined to send the creature to you and have you release him into the Siberian wilds (either Celegorm or Huan, take your pick).  _

_ Curufin, meanwhile, continues to break into my room at midnight and ask me questions such as “What if there was a machine that could toast bread for you using electricity?” and “What if someone dug a railway tunnel under the Atlantic Ocean?” To which I reply that if someone did either of those things I would not care, as I would much prefer to be sleeping. Do you suppose Dad was just as annoying when he was thirteen? If so I feel very sorry for his teachers. _

_ Also, not wanting to sound sentimental, but Mum mentioned that you headed off to Russia because both you and Maglor were fairly upset about a couple of girls you quarrelled with, and I suppose I should mention that I think you’ll be all right as you are both decent and reasonably attractive blokes, if I squint. Anyway, if the two of you insist on falling in love every ten minutes, please find sensible ladies to marry soon so I can become an uncle with a minimum of fuss. _

_ Yours sincerely, _

_ Caranthir _

 

_ PS: Is it strictly necessary for every single one of our male cousins to attend St. Francis as well as all our brothers? The school seems to be approximately 50 percent Gates boys by this time. And of course Uncle Finarfin’s brood are all the perfect teacher’s pets. Bloody annoying. _

 

Maglor K. Gates

Grand Hotel, St. Petersburg

_ February 16, 1884 _

_ Dear Maglor, _

_ I hope you’ll forgive me writing to you while you are abroad, but I am so very curious about St. Petersburg, and would love to hear your impressions of Russia if you are able to write back to me! Though if you are too busy, I will of course understand completely. You must have quite enough to do without your young cousins badgering you with questions! _

_ Is St. Petersburg as beautiful as it looks in paintings? Have you been able to visit the Hermitage Museum yet? One does get so starved for art up here at St. Francis. Sometimes I wish I could have gone to school abroad, like you did, though of course St. Francis is a family tradition and Father insisted I would get the best sort of education here. But I must confess I still fantasize about studying art in Paris or some such. Though after everything we got up to last year, perhaps I’d better stay away from Paris! I haven’t told any of my siblings about the rooftop adventure, as they’d go running to our parents immediately, but it’s without a doubt one of my fondest memories. The good news is that I’ve gotten Father to agree to let me take art lessons over the summer holidays; Mother was very keen on the idea, as you know how artistic her side of the family is.  _

_ I’m sure your brothers have written you loads of letters about how things are at school but I do want to say that we are all doing very well, and getting reasonably good marks. Orodreth is settling in well and most of our relatives have been very helpful about showing him the ropes, though I must say Curufin and Caranthir do tease the poor lad a bit! I’m sure it’s all in good fun but I may have to speak with them about it.  _

_ Alas, schoolwork is calling, but I should mention that I’m certain all your concerts in St. Petersburg will go absolutely brilliantly. I do love hearing you play. Perhaps when we’re all home for Easter we can play a duet together again? _

_ Love, _

_ Your cousin Finrod _

 

_ PS: Apparently Mother and Father have acquired a parrot named Chester who can speak German. I don’t know how I feel about this. _

  
  


_ \--- _

 

Caranthir M. Gates

St. Francis Academy for Boys

Fenwick, Scotland

_ February 21, 1884 _

_ Dear Caranthir, _

_ How wonderful it is to hear from you! I am writing this at two in the morning after a particularly delightful evening out with Maglor so you will have to forgive me if this letter doesn’t make a lick of sense. We are having a fairly good time in St. Petersburg, though not so good of a time you’re likely to have to fish us out of the Neva. As a matter of fact we were very good earlier in the evening: Maglor gave a piano concert in a church for some society to benefit orphans, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. However, we  _ have _ just returned home from a tavern on the riverbank where we met up with a troupe of Cossack soldiers who taught us some extremely interesting folk songs; I am very nearly certain the lyrics were quite rude, though I couldn’t understand them, so I suppose we can still pretend we were becoming cultured.  _

_ You may find it interesting to know that I asked Granddad what Dad was like as a child, and he told me, “Your father was insatiably curious to the point where I nearly had to start locking my bedroom door at night, otherwise he would pester me at all hours with his questions about how every single thing in the world worked.” That sounds like Curufin, all right. Sometimes I feel like Mum and Dad picked out all of our personalities like they were shopping at Harrods—one responsible child, please, a musical one, an adventurous one, a clever one, one just like Dad so he won’t feel left out, and a pair of adorable identical ones for good measure, if you please! _

_ It would certainly explain why we are such a mismatched bunch, anyway. _

_ Do please watch your language regarding Uncle Finarfin’s family; they can be a tad too earnest, certainly, but they are a thoroughly nice bunch in general and I won’t have you starting any more family feuds. Christmas dinners are awkward enough with Dad and Uncle Fingolfin glaring at each other over the goose every year. You be polite to our cousins or I’ll tell Celegorm to tell Huan to eat your books.  _

_ I can make no promises regarding Maglor’s and my future romantic luck, unfortunately. But I do believe that you would make an excellent uncle. You can put my future children to sleep by talking to them about economics for hours on end. _

_ With love, _

_ Maedhros _

 

Finrod I. Gates

St. Francis Academy for Boys

Fenwick, Scotland

_ February 22, 1884 _

_ Dear Finrod, _

_ How dare you imply that I am too busy to write to you! I should think by this time you would know for a fact that I thoroughly enjoy your letters and am always glad to chat. Though I will say, once again, you give me entirely too much credit. I may appear dignified and intelligent onstage but in my day-to-day life I still fall out of bed in the morning and put on my trousers two at a time like anyone else.  _

_ I apologize if I am mixing my metaphors; I have gotten very little sleep lately. _

_ St. Petersburg is precisely as beautiful as it looks in paintings, but with the added disadvantage of being thoroughly chilly. I have purchased a very large fur hat in order to keep my head from freezing clean off, though I don’t feel it really suits me. I am enclosing a photograph I had taken of myself and the hat for you and my younger brothers to have a good laugh at. I understand if you feel the need to draw a mustache on it; I would do the same. _

_ Your art lessons sound like a delightful idea. You must go to Mum and see if she has any advice for you—she knows all the best artists in London. And you mustn’t give up on the idea of going to Paris; you’ll be done with school in just two years, and then you’ll be able to do whatever you like! I’m inclined to think you’ll be a huge success. A nice young lad like you can’t be anything but. Incidentally, I am very sorry that Caranthir and Curufin have been teasing little Orodreth. I’d scold them, but I know for a fact they wouldn’t listen as they have a tendency to tease me as well. Perhaps I’ll get Mum and Dad to lecture them about it. _

_ Many fond wishes, _

_ Maglor _

 

_ PS: I know exactly how you should feel about the parrot: delighted. I am, anyway. It will be excellent to have someone in London to practice German with. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas, poor Curufin did invent the toaster independently, but wasn't able to patent it in time. Better luck next time buddy.  
> Also, "Finarfin and Earwen have way too many pet birds" is a hill I will die on.


	5. Honeymoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm indulging myself by writing something incredibly sappy, as the next few chapters take place in America, and we know what that means: everything is going straight to hell for this family.

Maedhros N. Gates

Castle Formenos

Glen Formenos, Scotland

_ November 5, 1892  _

_ My very dearest elder brother, _

_ Bliss! Utter bliss. If this letter is unreadable I apologize, as I believe this may be the happiest I have been in my entire life. Do you remember how I claimed to be madly in love with Olya Petrova (and Mary Flannery, and Antoinette Tournier, and Greta Schmidt, but that’s besides the point)? I was very young and foolish back then. In those days I thought that to be in love was to endure constant torment, but I was utterly wrong. Real love is like this: to always feel that one has come home. _

_ I hope you find this someday. I truly believe you will. _

_ Orkney is bleak and beautiful, rather like something out of a Gothic romance, and we are having a truly excellent time here. On fine days we take long walks along the seashore and catch fish; Annie is a brilliant cook, as she is brilliant at everything, and we’ve been feasting like royalty on the freshest seafood you’ve ever tasted. And on rainy days, when we are trapped inside...well, we spend our time much as any newlywed couple would (I won’t say more, for fear of offending your sensibilities). I am also teaching Annie to play the violin, and she’s a natural, just as I knew she would be. I often tell her that once things have calmed down she ought to give the London stage a try herself, to which she always responds with that beautiful laugh of hers, and tells me that if she ever abandoned her nursing duties to take to the stage everyone in Glen Formenos would perish. _

_ Incidentally, have you ever noticed how lovely Annie’s eyes are? They are precisely the same shade of blue as the sea in the South of France. As soon as things are sorted out with Uncle Fingolfin and we’re welcomed back into polite society I have every intention of taking Annie to France on holiday. You’re welcome to come too, of course, I think you could use a holiday.  _

_ Give the wee ones my love. If you never see Annie or myself again, it will be because we’ve decided to stay on honeymoon permanently and if you wish to speak to us you will have to come up to Orkney yourself. There is approximately an eighty percent chance that this will happen. _

 

_ All my love, _

_ Maglor _

 

_ Dear Maedhros and Co, _

_ Maglor asked if I would like to add something on to this letter as, he says, you are my family now as well. Well, I say “asked” when I should say “insisted, loudly, and started tickling me when I showed any hint of reluctance.” You’ve all known Maglor long enough that I needn’t make excuses for his behavior, I suppose. _

_ We are, as he mentioned, having a very pleasant time on Orkney, though of course the weather is quite chilly this time of year. I personally have no desire to stay up here all winter, so we’ll be returning to Glen Formenos as planned in two weeks. We most certainly will  _ not  _ be extending our honeymoon indefinitely, as Maglor suggested, and if he mentions it one more time I will be dragging him back to Glen Formenos by his hair. _

_ Give my fondest regards to your father and the rest of the family. We will attempt to bring you back some presents. _

 

_ Yours sincerely, _

_ Andril  _ ~~_ Hope  _ ~~ _ Gates _

 

_ \--- _

 

Maglor K. Gates

Albatross Cottage, Kirkwall, Orkney

_ November 12, 1892 _

_ My dear brother, _

_ You can’t know how delighted I am to hear how happy you are. Annie seems to me to be a thoroughly excellent young woman and precisely the sort who will be able to look after you. I am occasionally surprised that a sensible person like herself would be willing to marry into this family, but I suppose you can be very persuasive when you want to.  _

_ I joke, of course. It’s plain to me that Annie adores you as much as you adore her, and I couldn’t possibly be happier for you. And I am strongly tempted to take you up on your offer of a holiday to France, though perhaps we’d better delay that until you and Annie have been married for several years and have children that I can be an unpaid nanny for. I don’t think I should like to tag along while you are still in this well-deserved honeymoon phase. Incidentally, do please come back to Glen Formenos eventually, both because we miss you and because if anyone gets injured it would be nice to have Annie about. _

_ Now, the rest of the family had a few things they would like to say to you as well, and so to save on postage I suggested they simply add on to this letter. I cannot bear any responsibility for their words, though I have encouraged them to keep things clean. _

_ Maglor: This is Celegorm. If I ever have to read another letter that consists of you rhapsodizing about Annie’s smile and eyes and cooking I will feed the damn thing to Huan. I would ask you how the shooting is up on Orkney but I know for a fact that you won’t have been paying attention. Give Annie my love. _

 

_ Dear Maglor, Maedhros is forcing me to contribute to this letter even though I really don’t have anything to say. Congratulations on escaping Castle Formenos, I suppose? Truly, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t come back from Orkney. I might come join you. —Caranthir _

 

_ M&A—I hope by “presents” you mean “samples of interesting local rock” because I am in the middle of a project and could use some interesting rock samples. Love, Curufin. _

 

_ Dear Maglor and Annie, This is Amras writing on Amrod’s and my behalf, since my writing is  _ still  _ neater than his, and if he tries to take the pen from me like he did when we were children I will shave his head while he’s sleeping. I wanted to put that in writing so he knows how serious I am. We’re happy you are having a good time on Orkney and would like to know if you’ve seen any puffins. We’d rather like for you to try and catch us one as we quite fancy having a puffin as a pet, but we understand if that isn’t feasible. Well, Amrod says he doesn’t understand a bit and it shouldn’t be as hard as all that to catch a puffin, but you may ignore him. I always do. Love, Amras (and Amrod, yes, I know) _

 

_ Dear Maglor, _

_ Delighted to hear you are having a pleasant honeymoon. I trust you are behaving yourself well enough that Annie won’t decide to call the whole thing off, as I’m hoping you two will hurry up and give me grandchildren. Seven would be ideal, but in a pinch I will accept five. Your mother sends her love as well. _

_ Love,  _

_ Dad _


	6. Exiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you think you'd seen the last of this story? I'm sorry to tell you that you were wrong.
> 
> Also, I have some exciting news! For those of you who tolerate this AU and like bad jokes and faceclaims and headcanons and lists, I've created a tumblr blog for me to organize all my thoughts about all this nonsense. You may find it at [thegatesfamilyfiles](https://thegatesfamilyfiles.tumblr.com/). Enjoy!

Maedhros N. Gates

103 E. 5th Street

Boston, Massachusetts

_ January 20, 1895 _

_ Dear Maedhros, _

_ It’s entirely possible that you will not want to hear from me, but in case you do, let me say: Forgive me for not writing to you earlier. Establishing myself in New York without drawing undue attention to my activities has taken a great deal of time and effort, but fortunately show business folks in New York are not the sort of people to ask too many questions. I believe I’ll be safe here, and able to keep an eye on our enemies’ activities, at least for now. _

_ And once again, though you must tire of hearing me say it, I beg you to forgive me for not trying to rescue you. I tell myself that I was following your orders, that I was doing what you would have done and being responsible, but a part of me feels that if I had been less of a coward perhaps you wouldn’t have had to suffer through those weeks of torture in Melkor’s hideout. Fingon, it seems, is a far better brother to you than I am, for he was actually capable of rescuing you. I have no doubt that him, Turgon, and Aredhel will make short work of any of our enemies still lurking in Chicago. _

_ I’ve been having dreams, lately, though they are more like memories, of what Father said to us before he died. How he made us promise, once again, to get back the GADs and avenge Granddad’s death. But Maedhros, what are we going to  _ do  _ if  _ _ when we get them back? Are we meant to just bring them back to England and lock them up in a safe again? After what happened in Liverpool, I don’t know if we will ever be allowed back in Britain again. I certainly can’t see things going back to any semblance of how they used to be. _

_ I can’t see Mum and Annie ever forgiving us. _

_ Forgive me for being so melancholy. I hope your recovery continues to go well. _

_ Love, _

_ Maglor _

 

The Gap Music Hall

Brooklyn, New York

_ February 1, 1895 _

_ Dear Maglor, _

_ Never for a moment think that I do not want to hear from you. Despite everything, you are my brother, and receiving a letter from you will never bring me anything but joy. _

_ You must forgive me if my penmanship is not as neat as it was; writing with my left hand is taking some getting used to. But get used to it I must, since I have been seeing a discreet doctor here in Boston who has informed me that there is no guarantee I will ever be able to use my right hand again. However, there’s no point in becoming maudlin about it; far better to have the joints of my right hand crushed than to have the same thing happen to my skull. I suppose Melkor (or Morgoth, as he is now calling himself—as if he thinks a code name will keep us off his trail) would have gone for my skull next, had Fingon not showed up when he did. _

_ While we are on the subject, next time you apologize for not coming to rescue me, I will take the next train to New York and smash your violin. Did you not understand me before I left for that farce of a parlay? “Do not come after me, no matter what.” Those were my  _ exact words.  _ You had our five younger brothers to look after and a great deal of other responsibilities. That does not translate to cowardice. And I do not for a minute believe that you or any of our brothers would have given in to torture. We may not be as strong as we were when Father was alive, but we are still strong, you included.  _

_ Personally, I do not know what plan our father had for us once we recovered the GADs. I do not even know whether he had one. But whatever his plan may have been, we must think for ourselves now.  _

_ I don’t know what we will do when we get them back. But we will. No matter how long it takes. _

 

_ \--Maedhros _

 

_ \---- _

 

Maglor K. Gates

The Gap Music Hall

Brooklyn, New York

_ September 1, 1899 _

_ Dear Maglor, _

_ Well, I am not sure if you’ve heard from Celegorm and Curufin lately, but on the very slim chance that you have not, the score seems to stand as follows: _

_ GADs stolen, for a second time: One (currently in the possession of the Governor of Louisiana, so I’ve heard) _

_ Heiresses kidnapped: One, though it didn’t last _

_ Dogs stolen: One, by aforementioned heiress _

_ Brothers of ours who are no longer welcome in California and are now inflicting themselves upon Boston: Two _

_ The situation appears, overall, to be fairly grim, despite my lighthearted way of relaying it. I’m sure you have heard by this point about the tragic death of our young cousin Finrod, who was dragged into this mess out of the goodness of his own heart. That poor boy; he always was the best of us, and he really did deserve better. He should have stayed in England and married that nice French girl he was so fond of, instead of following us here and being murdered by gangsters. _

_ But I will stop this melancholic reflection, as it does not do any of us any good. Evidently Orodreth has taken up the running of the town of Nargothrond, and I am certain he will do an adequate job. It really is extraordinary how well Uncle Finarfin’s side of the family has managed to stay away from illegal activities. _

_ In slightly better news, I have recently heard from Fingon in Philadelphia, and he and his family appear to be doing well. I haven’t yet met his son Erenion, but Fingon assures me the boy is both intelligent and honorable, and is not nearly as much trouble as any of us were in our childhoods. I also hear that Turgon is running the Chicago operation successfully and his little daughter Idril is a very bright child, though of course Turgon has no desire to let his darling daughter come into contact with any of us. He is suffering, the poor boy, after his wife’s death and Aredhel’s disappearance. _

_ Celegorm and Curufin send their greetings, though I will not allow them to add onto this letter themselves as I do not trust them. _

_ Love,  _

_ Maedhros _

  
  


Maedhros N. Gates

103 E. 5th Street

Boston, Massachusetts

_ September 9, 1899 _

_ Dear Maedhros, _

_ I was indeed aware of poor Finrod’s sad fate; despite my rather vague awareness of what goes on in the non-theatre world, I did see his obituary in the papers. It is difficult news to bear.  _

_ Perhaps it’s selfish of me, but I feel I am at least partly to blame for our dear cousin’s death. We were good friends, as youngsters, and he always admired me—had I not come to America, would he and his siblings have stayed behind as well? To think that little over a decade ago he was writing to me asking for advice about girls and music. Really, I should have advised him to never listen to me or any of us.  _

_ The affair of Miss Luthien duBois and the GADs is quite an extraordinary one. From the rumors I have heard, she gained access to Morgoth himself by pretending to audition as a dancer for his cabaret in San Francisco, and then drugging him to sleep while she and her fiancé broke into his safe. I suppose the real question is, why did we not think of that? There are still two Diamonds hidden in two other secret locations somewhere across the country; perhaps one of us could try and seduce our way into getting them. Though I imagine Mr. Bauglir will be getting wise to those sorts of tricks by now. _

_ Congratulations are apparently in order to Mr. Thingol duBois, then, as he is now the owner of one of the GADs. We will have to try and negotiate it away from him, I suppose, though part of me is inclined to wish him the joy of the bloody thing and leave well enough alone. I’ll leave the business dealings up to you and Caranthir; perhaps you will have some kind of success with the old man. _

_ Give Fingon my love, and tell him I send my best wishes to his family, even Turgon. I do wonder frequently what became of poor Aredhel. Three years, and not a single word from her. Were it anyone else I might assume she met with some fatal accident, but I find it difficult to believe that anything other than a herd of elephants could kill Aredhel. I remain hopeful that in a few years she will arrive back on Turgon’s doorstep with a caravan full of treasure and seven adopted children. _

_ We must find hope somewhere, after all. _

_ Yours, _

_ Maglor _

**Author's Note:**

> As a brief reminder, I love each and every one of you folks who read this whatnot and I adore hearing from you whenever possible!


End file.
